28 years old
I tried modeling by accident
Thought it would be good
But it was more food for
Thought
As the poses good more ****
The consequences of those poses
We’re too
Where did
                  Your brain
                                     Go to?

In the mirror through tears, i notice that i am dressed in the scars of every deep wound I played off like a paper cut, and the phone in my pocket weighs a thousand pounds from your text messages.

I want to skip the ******* thing in a river.

Oil and water but just as much as I know we won’t ever mix, you convince me it’s all part of the recipe.

I have shrank down, cut pieces of myself like a cake and served everyone at every table a slice every time.

Stuffed my baggage in the closet and let you move yours in instead.

Cried like an anxious dog who’s owner wasn’t around.

And we called this pain love, for 20 years.

I slipped into the role, thanks to my parents.

Mentally ill and emotionally unaware,
It’s so easy to choose what’s easy and so hard to notice your love has gone rotten.

I changed my perspective and every smooth word started to sting.

I was kind as you were building up pieces of me to fuel your own fire.

I understood until I couldn’t anymore, but you never would.

Change your perspective with me, climb the mountain and realize the hike’s easier on the way down, i would’ve carried you all the way up if you asked me. But we sat for 20 years and heard everybody on the way back down talk about the view.

I chose to sit with you instead. And when I finally took that first step up, I should’ve known it meant leaving you behind me.

I am my own destiny. I am the bullet in the chamber and the consequences of the trigger pull. I am my own mind, I tended the garden of fear and worry and constant replay of mistakes and regret. I am more than who I think I should be for anyone else.


good luck with all the **** you’ve got going on. disrespectfully yours, your ex “best friend”

Wild ideas called seminal,
put forth the first root
prior to the first shoot,

first the blade, then the ear,
then the full corn in the ear,
then the harvest, gathering

fuel for the fire in the belly,
fitting frame and form to task,

as each part player repeats,
the quotidian procession
offering songs sung inside

faith formed bubbles of might,
may haps made per haps good
and easy, easing frets and fears,

recollecting known knowns,
regarding time above ground,
reminding each subroutine

to come, play the role, smile,
fix good will, first form genius
performing projection

shining on time, finding it
comforting to know how long
a time has been in process

of making up our will to try,
once more, our ingratiating
offering, whispering

fire, fire of life, fire in me a will
to find a way of worth to make
seem natural, spiritual, not flesh

the body and the mind,
the body and the will,
the body and the need, the want

the pulling hunger, the generator
calling for sustenance…

if time is life… and comfort
has been achieved, received…

life after nobility, life after expertise,

proven with the worth attested to…

urged whimsically, can we not
make a moment's peace pass

uncontested, indeed, we can and may.

Have a fine day. Or so they say,
wishing without realizing how,
the will to give an encouraging word

weighs lightly on a satisfied mind,
at the end of … ever, again.

Two questions, lost to television
"What is matter?
Never mind.
What is mind?
It does not matter."

Yet, a lifetime later, in nous sense,
minding one's own business, thinking

whose idea is this, who's testing time
for worth, weight of wisdom, left to me,

for my attention paid,
for my notice taken, blank stare, musing
using preserved utterances between we two,

me, and my own will, me and my monkey
discerning historical value systems arranged

to leave room for fruitless investigation,
to make space for ruling levels and grades,
high over low, will to make, will to use,
will to take and use to make more ease,

more peace of mind in matters of time,

offered in a poetic sense, mere mindful
ness, in nous sensed, gentle, familiar order,

at our established limit, at the end of life,
assuming time continues, only life's
artificial interesting lures, know
now urgency, generating knowledge
needing, it must seem, at the moment,
to be pre-served, as known known reminders,
the story of us, we, the people alive
letting this mind be in us, in word
and deed, in truth, we think
we may use any knowing
reproved while taking life as easy as

any royal courtier in empirical courts,

vested interestingly, if one wishes to know
what is invested in me, one wishes to know
why am I the curious kind, sorted out
to ever learn and never settle

to the bottom,
line, final word, capital idea,

bring up a child, in the way, whither
no way is commonly the only way,

but we have dug a channel, a course
to become the of course, in all conversing,

of course, along the way through life
informed as one called to learn to tell true

what was said in counsel, with the wise,
of course, those most blessed with nothing
missing or broken, comforted mindfully,

aware where gravity is enforced, we hold
the fullness of time as space in mind.
------------------------------
Informing us as knowers using
assisting intelligence's recollections…
answers in mindform, offered as news
ex parte gratis, for your information,
finding oneself in the same form as wind
metaphorically, in the same mind
curious as to what we think we know:

[The term capital]
made its first appearance
in medieval Latin
as an adjective capitalis (from caput, head)
modifying the word pars, (part and parcel)
to designate the principal sum
of a money loan.
The principal part
of a loan was contrasted
with the "usury"—later called interest—
the payment made
to the lender
in addition
to the return
of the sum lent.
This usage, unknown
to classical Latin,
had become common
by the thirteenth century and possibly
had begun as early as 1100 A.D.,
in the first chartered towns
of Europe.
--- according to knowledge accessible
by any empowered to read these thoughts---

[Frank A. Fetter,
"Reformulation
      of the Concepts
            of Capital and Income
                  in Economics and Accounting," 1937]

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=capital>

In sequence, next
we spend our rest urged on, pressed

pushing aggregational will to empower
precious personal will to accept

hold tight, the right to think, this is a good day,
where the course widens to meet the ocean,
and eventually evaporate.


Taking your time,
using your attendance, now

to extend my hope
to knowing certain ways
to inform good counselors

called, trusted advisors, seers
granted high perch to see from

to draw ever into now, to focus

our mind's eye at the point aimed
from ever's edge at the first cause

the why we are, part of every thing,
in truth, the state we find ourselves

being makers of… let this mind seem

our common sensory sorting system,

cost for not knowing, profit for knowing,

guiding guardian self preserving gnosis.

My heart is ensnared by the way the light dances
in your eyes, a mesmerizing spectacle that nourishes
my very soul, you're my radiant source of vitamin D
As I lent you my tank top, my thoughts were tangled
in a web of our silence, as we shared a kiss that lingered
long, leaving both social tanks on E.

Your lips remain sealed, yet they whisper of fervent
dreams, each smile a fleeting glimpse into your passion
The career you envision unfolds like a cinematic masterpiece,
with you at the helm, boldly declaring, “Action!”

As my admiration for your curves surely deepens,
your unwavering positivity are all these straight lines;
unyielding, resolute, and always moving forward
Your essence is akin to a pen, sharp and purposeful,
having a point to make, making it so easy for me to
spell it out to you;  U R truly Gorgeous.

Love tramples my bitter heart
Shadows follow my feet
Through deep pool of frustration I wade
Legs may as well be made of concrete

To find exit in this forest of grief
Quiet the picture of you in my mind
Grows in the gaps your absence has rendered
Tiniest light so sharp leaves my eyes blind

That chases progress in circles
Some wishes aren't meant to come true
Worth it warming memories over smoldering embers
For peace that passed away with you

Beautiful reflection; why do you seem so empty...
weighing your faith, yet your doubt overflows plenty,
plunging back into the abyss of your sadness—
your declarations of worth echo loudly, yet your lips
remain sealed, indifferent to the truth that aches to be spoken.

Beautiful reflection; why do you seem so empty...
Arms withdrawn from embrace, a gaze a sharp weapon,
severing ties to love, drifting like a forsaken leaf—
your words, mere shadows of substance, a hunger
that only leaves the soul impoverished.

Beautiful reflection; why do you seem so empty...
I should have come more often; would you expect me?
From the grime that clings to my skin, I sift through the
muck for miracles, offering a sweet smile that belies
a heart worn and weary...

Beautiful reflection; why do you seem so empty;
“cos I have gazed upon my reflection too many times,
as the glass being half empty.”

Our lives resemble relics nestled within the dusty corners of
thrift shops, all drawn to these forsaken treasures that others
have overlooked. We take turns giving upon these forgotten
items a renewed affection, a fresh perspective on their worth.

For we are all broken at times, displayed for sale in the hopes
of rediscovering our inherent value, yearning to feel complete
once again. Our hearts linger in the temporal marketplace
of time, where faded dreams gather dust, and past loves
accumulate the remnants of emotions once so vibrant.

Each of our sorrows lies like a heap of tattered garments,
heavy with the weight of our experiences. We observe as
the masses pick us, some to elevate our spirits, while others
seek to let us down.

I find solace among other hidden treasures, awaiting the
discerning gaze that can recognize my true worth; indeed,
our lives resemble relics nestled within the dusty corners
of thrift shops.

Slow poke, takes all day
to tell the joke,
taken serious
charms change minds,
but we be knowing something
in a work of McLuhan's
pain humor we ache
to know, just us
iustathank, amen, now
confidently scientific as all hell broke loose.
.. war… makes no sense, so peace must win.
we must be taught, what the range is, degrees
of dislike, degrees
of not like me metrics, points
of similarity, any member paid attention
can and may, relearn early lessons,
noted whole made child who
in some cultures, first lives
at first breath, holds hope
a child's spirit is ever
after interfacing
with life, face
to face,
in truth,
knowing empowerment
init intuited assist informing

Aftnext allusion lieved seem news
courier dispatched away…

An Old English word
for it was aerendgast,
literally "errand-spirit."
Guest… right, ghast
in fact.
Ag me on, old boy,

Word Origin: Derived
from the root
ἀγγέλλω (aggellō),
meaning "to announce" or "to bring tidings."
-jello time me, 5wpm molasses in January
agree, tis the season
for sappy stories
Prosaic knowledge, face to face,
with a spirit, given good grace,
worshipped, tested, proven
worthy, grace a taste,
sweet for granted.
Be it sour, taste with grace, ongean.
Take proof, fear no angry gods, fear no hellforms,

endure
to the last stage, season,
after season, last stage, any age,

Wisdom shows herself, gentle,
easily entreated, peaceable, opposing

orders
of magnitude and precedents
in laws, allowing liberty, indeed,
to mean we may
as we,
believe our own lies,
too long,
like a song,
well, you know,
then we eventually die.

Some become details,
in mapped meanings,

points
of departure
from norm, expect
miracles, Pournelle reminds me…

most is a waveform word, peak
is such a word, as well, we speak

and expect, eventually, we'll see,

ra'ah, the beaten dead horse resurrects,
and the medical laughter releases
at will,
at will, indeed,
beauty rightly shown
done, is known done,
undone is deconstructing,
what we both thought at once

first, I can live
on sublime joy, making
but, the jubilation association,

awesome feeling one has as we,
the people who enjoy driving slow.

It leaves one willing
to wait
to see.

Coming of age… predictable

among the watchers called
to sort and divide
between soul and spirit,

simple material spiritual sublime

"the hoary head is a crown of glory,
if it be found
in the way
of right use ness."
Necessary essence
cess pool science is not trivial, ever
be sence, sense, since sometimes beings
be all we ever was. As aweformed weings…

as when our side wins, we each take pride,
as when our spirit lifted up the lagging pride,

with fear
of shame, loser shame,
outathe game, exile, out law

cultural yokes break right then, when
the proud contentious spirit, popped,

and all that could have been true,
had the bubble
of all we knew been true,
not
popped, and we not
remember believing true

some sacred parables, formed while pearling,
rolling an inconvenient truth
behind our teeth,

we think, ******* vacuum muscle, hard thought,
we resist the grinding, loose,
laxing tight jaws…
we wait.

We can believe this was first enjoyable,
then peaceable and therefore treated
with as wise,
ifthenelse
in stop and think this may take days…
init ongean errand
intuit it takes a minute…

Ten at the most

Look
to the sky, sow
in season, easy as a pop.

And an animated version of an ol…al be
As Iamb, ever a step one may take
All ye, all ye, outs in free, so say
The magi, et Phrygian sailors,
under Castor and Pollux
sharing immortality,
taking teller right,
find a lode, mine
right, be used
to think I know,
where these things
lead, long ago, we all

may know now, factcheck
evolved
from spellcheck
integrated since WordStar,

Pournelle, Military mind, penned
the plan planet
in this mind, let be

in the proud few who endure
to the end the message loads,

in terms endearing details twice told
tales, ten times sense
of last chance,
preposed
past,
alive,
breathing, as believing freedom
from the press has evolved
to inform
the uniform code
of military justice must apply
- when precious inherited angry
- honor bound wille zur machts
- nichts, nix, **** reproves

knowing is  using a known,
neuron dopamenergic anticipation,

expect the super natural reward,
perceive the miracle expected,
think snow, visualize
neuroninc literally
as we may think
on the wall between us,
in living words,
thinking nothing shameful, beguiledness,

passes the instant one assumes self control.

Why does the one old boy, believe, we've all
some obstacles
in common, relative,
to role, roles, we choose,

used, Goethe's best advice,
think every thing again,
and do it oftener sooner

when one buys a seat
at the table,
with the likes and dislikes
of Franklin and Nietzsche,

sacred pauses signal choices,
suns down, we're running
on battery, were we children

from TVLand, on Commercial Social
Media, news medium artificed
matter facts form in, thus
information conforms
to medium,

and possibly disregards inverse squares.

============
This we possibility, we know,
could be
we did,
now,
know
we just be, not me, not  you, we

as a we, we mature, and disintegrate,
we sort ourselves out, and look back

at all the lies we ever believed, far back

child ideas
about angels and God and words,
spelled, said nasty figsabout nasty figs, words,
mined mind
conserved
at cognate level, today… allusions
usions focus uses
are coming
to us
from a pile
of memory verses, kept
for such a time as this,
when the beauty, yes
abstraction allows,
manifests points,

when the television taunts you,
does any body know your name?

Oh, yAH ra'ah, you see, we know, goodness,
is something we waited for, hoping subsidized

by faith
in Christmas
from the POV
of the king or wiseman or magi or sage,
who a…
at the age
of seven…
reenacted ritual,
for the whole town,
obeisance as predicted
in some readings
interpreted as prophetic
in Daniel.

Knowledge would increase, sense,
and all its accents, congeal, common

google plexity, one
among us, you, insist
we seem
in tune we hope, we dance

it is a waltz it always is
unless it’s a slow polka.

Third time's the charm. Charm deserves use tax,
one pays attention
to the chance handle
between worth
of sacred pausing
to ask corrections
to occur as we go, so
we leave as little evidence as possible.

The good who chose the fade away option,
those live
to tell tales such as few believe.

Encorporations, Liebling --
Weforms, y bubbles in being buvvles.
Ancient knowing, long sacred, hidden,
as with the legend of confused names,

Epimythiums accosting promethean bets,

day and night, eat  your heart out, free
from regrets, satisfied mind, okeh, free

to act as agent
for lady liberty, here post feudal self,

as discovered in a canyon, much the same
as Sha'gri La from story, Havasu Canyon,
as home of a boy I knew, whose grandfather

had made peace, with good intention,
to remain in Supai until the end of time,

then, there come the missionaries, guessing
Victory in Jesus would rouse the innocents
to repent for never having imagined Hell,

as sure as can be made believe,
by **** sapien innocents,

never led by setters free,
into known uses
of old Eber clan ever words,
otherwise, still, small, breather thinking ideas,

whims like what if this is that, and we ready,
readers like think as fast as we can write,
as if we have been taught to dance
as when we drum along and dance

in mindful memorizational motivational wills,
to live the story we form as our weform agrees,

these are the realms of spirits, these are words
enough for the wise in any situation, sent, willing

to breathe, and feel, the whole wind working bit,
the smoke you may use, indeed, see believing
work out a salve for that itching ear, feeling

we form on-demand, at hand, at touche', indeed,
doing done, done did get done, this away from that,

back to the future,
through common senses used,
globally translatable
with Google Translate, using

copy and paste
of encoded letting out of dogmen,
from another mindform mingled

with mine, shall we

imagine Ancestory.com as a technology needing a lie,
to make believers
in what DNA can prove today,

if we go back far enough,
we were masters or slaves, and masters knew,

what slaves were not at liberty
to know,

without former knowers telling, so

dystopia ontological negative hope,

the princess and the pea, and me,
the wildass idea,
in the vineyard,

as the a sunbeam purpled
in a cluster

carried me
in a reverie
of poetic grandeur

indeed, into the afterward, ward after last.